Being Lord Voldemort
by voldie's no.1 fan
Summary: Being The Dark Lord is really harder than you think. Take a moment to see how the innocent(?) Tom Riddle became Lord Voldemort.


Disclaimer-JK Rowling owns all the characters that you recognize from the Harry Potter series.

I really wasn't born evil. In fact, I think if I had a chance, I would have turned out just lovely. I could have had a pet dog named Fluffy. I could have opened my own chocolate shop filled with love, happiness and sugar. I could have even starred in Hollywood movies under the name "Hank Hunk."

But I didn't.

Nobody knows the _real_ me. Oh, everybody knows the me that loves to torture muggles, kill people, and is completely power-hungry. But that's only my public side (my PR guy told me to keep my private life strictly confidential- you know, once they know all about who you sleep with and what sort of cereal you like, there goes all your mystery and intrigue). My loyal Death Eaters know me a bit better- in fact, Lucius Malfoy somehow discovered that I have a strange fondness for baked beans... He gave me several cans for my birthday last year, along with several torture devices (too bad the warranty has already worn off for the one with lots of spikes... several of them broke off already. Shoddy quality, no doubt, but things aren't what they used be like back in the day...).

However, I am getting off topic. My PR guy tells me that I am here to endorse my new image- so here I go. No longer will I be "that evil, sadistic, twisted, bastard" (though I was very touched by that title- my dear mother would have been so proud, bless her). Now, I will be "that evil, sadistic, twisted, misunderstood, if-only-he-had-a-better-childhood-he-could-have-been-decent-or-only-involved-in-petty-crime-not-mass-murders bastard." I know. A bit of a mouthful, but as you know, times change.

So here it is. The glory, the story of my life presented as a slide show. I managed to find all my old photos and altered them for your viewing. Perhaps this will help you, pathetic being, realize why I have become the way I am. You shall see it all- my deprived childhood, my tormented adolescence, my crazy seventeenth birthday at the strip bar in Hogsmeade... You are blessed with seeing inside my mind, something my loyal Death Eaters haven't even seen yet (and actually, I'm supposed to show everything to them first for their approval- it's in their contract, so I'm hoping you won't blab to them... otherwise there'll be one hell of a lawsuit. However, I could always kill them if they find out. That would solve the problem).

Ok, we're starting now. Don't you dare yawn, or I'll curse you to Mars. Just joking. I haven't discovered the technology for _that_ yet. I'll only disembowel you.

Oh, and before I forget- here's a fact sheet that I put together just for you. So that you can know just the basics about me before you watch the slide show.

Basic Fact Sheet

Name: Thomas Marvolo Riddle aka: "Lord Voldemort", "The Dark Lord", "You-Know-

Who", "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named", etc.

Birth Date: (I had my PR guy omit this- I'm very sensitive about my age, you know)

Height: originally 5'10", now, it varies, depending on whom I posses

Weight: (This was omitted too- my weight, I believe, is a very personal matter)

Hobbies: Torture, attempting to vanquish Harry Potter, muggle baiting, gardening, killing

various people, destroying villages, knitting

Pets: None right now- too much going on, what with coming back to life and all that jazz.

You know, a pet is a really big responsibility, but when things cool down, I hope to get a dog named Muffy.

Family: None, currently. But I'm hoping to settle down, in a few year's time after my big comeback.

Favorite Book: It used to be the "Curious George" series, but now I am very fond of the "Anne of Green Gables" series. It was very exciting when Anne and Gilbert got married.

Favorite Music: The melodious tones of people screaming

Favorite Food: Chicken potpie, marshmallows

Favorite Designer: I absolutely adore John Galliano- even though he is a filthy muggle.

Are you done reading it? Good. Onwards to the first slide.

Thomas Marvolo Riddle, age one and a half. Don't I look adorable? I really was a handsome baby, all the black hair and sweet smile... Ignore the reddish glow in my eyes... clearly the photo paper was screwed up. And that's my mom- isn't she beautiful? It's hard to see why my fat bastard father left her. That bloody asshole. If he was still alive, I'd twist him limb from limb and curse him until his fuc- Oops. Sorry, I'm afraid I lost myself. What? Oh, yes, I have checked my blood pressure, just last month. My PR guy keeps telling me that it would be bad publicity if I suddenly keeled over during a press release thing.

Back to the show.

My first steps as a child, age two (I was a late bloomer, so they say). Note the wrecked automobile in the background. I managed to walk out the front door and was nearly run over by a car. Luckily, the idiot driving the car swerved in time and only hit a cow instead. We had steak for dinner that night.

And then, my mother died. Yes, it _was_ very sad. Even though I can't remember it very well- I was only three and a half. I don't know what she died from, but I hope it isn't congenital. This is a picture of her funeral. I remember all the crying, all the wailing witches and wizards in black- that's when some relative (she's dead now) told me that I was a wizard, and that through my blood runs the blood of the great Salazaar Slytherin. Quite impressive, but I didn't know what the heck she was talking about at the time. It wasn't until my first year at Hogwarts did I realize how important that was. I will always remember that fateful day.

This is the first picture of me at the orphanage. I think I was five. Do you see me, in the back? No, not the kid with the hat. I'm the kid he's sitting on. Yes, that is yours truly. No, I resent being called "shrimpy." That was back in the orphanage... the wretched muggle one I lived in for nearly ten years before I went to Hogwarts and one of the first things I blew up once I gained power. Fond memories...

Class picture, age five and a half. See all those kids in that group, lined up? Starting with the top row: Bobby, Jimmy, Lizzy, Annie, George, Philbert, Gordie, Eddy, Jane, Sally, Danny, Emily, Roy, Jenny, and Bill. Where am I you ask? I am over in the far, far right corner, I think you can see part of my foot and my arm. I was over there in "Cootie-ville." Larry was also in "Cootie-ville", because he had just gotten the chicken pox.

Me with chicken pox. Very itchy. Got them from blasted Larry. Killed him very slowly and painfully.

Christmas at the orphanage, age six. They used to put up a battered old tree (since it was in such a bad condition, it was half price at the Christmas tree lot), stick some lurid plastic ornaments on it, and called it a "Christmas Tree." And on Christmas Eve, we'd hang up our old socks (we didn't have stockings- too expensive) and hope for something decent the next day. I got an empty shoebox from my teachers, my first bloody nose from George Lambton (the kid with the hat who was sitting on me), and a pencil from Roy. For dinner, we were allowed extra helpings of stewed prunes and boiled cabbage (turkey or ham was way out of the budget, or so they say). As a treat, we didn't have to wash the dishes, or mop the floors after dinner. No wonder I never liked Christmas much. When I finally conquer the earth, I will ban Christmas and put it its place "Voldemas Day."

This one is of me at age seven. My teachers always said I was a "sweet child." They were quite surprised when they discovered that their "sweet child" liked killing and torturing others. Anyway, this is me at one of my birthday "parties", July 2nd. I use the term "parties" lightly because I'm not really sure if this actually qualifies as a party. In fact, it meant that everyone would sit at the same table, have a can of beans (the cook always ran out of cake on my birthday), sing some out of tune version of "Happy Birthday", and then we all went to go scrub the bathrooms afterwards. At least George Lambton couldn't sit on me during my birthday "party." He had to wait until all the teachers left so he could sit on me in peace.

This is me at age seven and a half. There is my best friend, Roy, the puny one with the glasses and red hair. But to be truthful, Roy was my only friend. It was like that for several reasons. One, George Lambton (that bastard) had taken a fancy to torturing me (and he is one big lump of a kid), and two, I threatened him into being my friend. Here we are on a field trip to the lake nearby the orphanage. It was a treat for being good. On this field trip, George managed to push Gordie Swallows into the lake... and the teachers never found out about it.

Age eight. One of the greatest realizations of my life. This is when I first discovered I had a penchant for pain and suffering. See, I'm over there, to the far left, frying ants with a magnifying glass. Ah, those innocent pastimes of youth... sending helpless ants into a fiery inferno... Those were the good old days.

My first black eye, age eight and a half. After George Lambton punched me for telling the teacher he didn't do his homework. But I did get my revenge against that bully after I left Hogwarts. He had the honor of being one of the first people I killed. After I destroyed the whole orphanage, that is.

This was my first anger management class. That was my half-wit "counselor", the idiot with the frizzy hair and buck teeth. The orphanage was required by law to give me some "guidance" after I "accidentally" blew up Annie Barrows for calling me "Wart Face." That was one insult I have never forgot... it makes me cry every time I think about it... until I think about the way I tortured Annie five years ago. This was also my first incident of magic, which I didn't realize until I went to Hogwarts.

My very first pet, Arnold the slug. There he is, right on the ground near my feet. He was a lovely pet- we had so much fun together. I remember I used to put him on Jane Matthew's bed and wait to hear her scream. Unfortunately, it got a bit out of hand one night and Arnold got squashed to oblivion.

Arnold's funeral. Note the miniature coffin I made out of a cigarette box I found lying around in one of my teacher's office (don't ask me what I was doing there). It was a very fun occasion. I love funerals.

Bloody George Lambton again, He was eleven, I was nine. Held the first annual "Sit on Tom" contest and gave me a bloody nose when I tried to defend myself.

Birthday party, age ten. Same old party, except I got jar of pickles to eat instead of beans (they were out of them, bean shortage, apparently).

My second pets, Ernest and Betty the budgies. Except for all the bird crap, they made wonderful pets. I even taught Ernest to say "burn in Hell, fool" and Betty could say "suffer in damnation" until I got in trouble for cursing. I had them for about three months. Then, George opened the cage and let them fly out. I didn't see them until dinner-time, when I took a bite of the "chicken" pot pie the cook made for us that afternoon. I didn't know budgies tasted so chewy. Yes, I know that is rather disgusting, but I was very hungry that evening.

Picture of the second annual "Sit on Tom" contest. All the other boys except Roy participated in it. Roy tried to help me, but George locked him in the broom closet before hand and did not let him out until a day and a half later. That was the last time Roy ever stood up for me and ditched me, but I did manage to make him grow painful boils for two weeks.

And you wonder why I became such a disturbed person when I grew up.

My Hogwarts letter, age eleven. I was so happy when I got that letter... In fact, that is what allowed me to fulfill my dreams of reeking destruction and death in my wake. How could I have killed so many people if I had not discovered the joys of magic? Yes, it is possible to kill people using Muggle devices, but I find that they are very messy- all the blood and guts spewing everywhere, it just turns you off. This was my awakening, my escape from that damned orphanage, the beginning of an era... What a momentous occasion. I remembered that I was magical from my mother's funeral, but I always thought it was a joke, or some sort of a funky dream from inhaling the fresh paint on the benches at the cemetery. But no, it was true. Ah, now back to the picture. That's the owl, over there. And there is George Lambton wetting his pants in fear. That big baby. Everyone thought that it was some sort of a sick joke, but luckily one of my teachers believed it (she was actually really superstitious) and took me to Diagon Alley, my first encounter with other wizards. I never forgot her kindness for believing in me, and to show it, I killed her as painlessly as possible.

End of slide show number one.

That was fun, wasn't it? Yes, I just get teary eyed watching those tender moments of my childhood... my innocence. Do you understand better now? My tortured childhood (and that bloody George Lambton) made me what I am, so don't go blaming me. Blame my childhood. Blame George Lambton. Blame my mother. Blame the orphanage. It's not my fault.

My PR guy is telling right now not to overdo it, since after a while, people start getting bored with listening to what you have to say. But you're not bored, are you? Otherwise, if you in fact _are _bored, I heard disembowelment is really exciting- an absolute barrel of laughs. What? My PR guy is telling me I'm not supposed to threaten people. Oops.

Stay tuned to learn even more about my life. It'll be very fun, educational, and exciting. There will even be free food. And if you don't come, I'll hunt you down.

Read. Review.


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